Interim
by jules1013
Summary: Sam x Jo x Dean. Adult audiences only. AU, set vaguely toward the end of season two.


You're fucking in the front seat, the man beneath you nameless but not interchangeable. He knows how to finger and fuck and god but it's been a long time since you've been with that combination. You smear wetness in his lap as you stare at the worn vinyl, looking for cracks. There are none but the stitching is loose at the space just behind his ear. You imagine yourself pulling the thread, watching intently as supple flesh separates beneath your hand. Your nail trails the loose end but you don't tug, you merely indulge the fantasy, like poking a bruise. Thumb pad moves rough against your clit and at your surprised huff you are met with a throaty, masculine laugh.

"Thought I'd lost you for a moment."

You don't answer or even try to smile, just lick the corner of your mouth and meet his eyes quickly before staring at where you are joined. At your attention he shifts, thrusting deeper, but still you stare at your wetness coating his thighs. The vinyl beneath him looks more shiny than usual and you feel a flash of guilt at the realization.

Mouth against your ear and you look up, staring unfixed over his shoulder. You're about to come when your eyes focus through the rear windshield on a gray figure. Your breath stops and your hips falter but still he doesn't notice.

Dean sees you and despite his scowl he makes no move to stop you. His face is angry and his brow creased and you don't know if it's that the man is inside you or inside his car that makes Dean see red.

You don't talk about it afterwards.

---

You come out of the shower and both boys have their pants around their knees, their eyes focused on the screen in front of them even though their shoulders touch. It's a habit, you think, left over from adolescence and it doesn't seem to bother them so you don't let it bother you. You join them on the bed, back against the headboard, right in the middle so that you can see the television between their heads at the foot of the bed.

Their arms shift in tandem, a perverse parallel to their synchronized fighting, yet neither boy seems to notice. Or rather perhaps it's nothing worth noting, just something that is, like how Sam and Dean can share a drink (but not a fork) and never reach for it at the same time. Or how Sam instinctively knows to lift his head from the newspaper in his lap, left hand gently guiding the steering wheel while Dean pushes at buttons on the dash.

After some time, you slip a hand beneath your underwear, regretting the shower because now your fingers feel dry. You are tentative at first, thinking you should be embarrassed, but both boys keep their heads forward even though Dean's neck twitched in recognition and Sam snuffed his nose at your first soft murmur.

You come during the girl on girl scene, Dean not far behind and Sam already spent.

---

Dean fucks your mouth soon after that, your knees in the dirt and your skull near brick wall. And that's it--he fucks your mouth, you do not blow, suck or go down on him. Your head is planted firmly between his palms, his fingers lacing in your hair to keep you in place. Your mouth is smaller and your lips fuller than what he is used to, or so you perversely imagine because it cannot be _you_ that makes him groan and rut like that.

Later you let Sam take you from behind because then it won't be a secret, then there can be no tension. Sam grunts and humps and although you cannot see him you know his eyes are closed. Dean listens from the bathroom, the bed springs too loud and the water tap kept firmly off. You think maybe he's jacking himself and you come imagining that his eyes find yours as he lazily strokes his dick.

---

Now, and for the past three nights, Sam takes you in the motel room, Dean still and quiet, watching in the dark. It makes it okay somehow and you are keen to oblige or maybe you just don't have it in you to care.

Sometimes it's missionary and he just slams into you, your body trapped beneath his. Sam's big and you're small and if it doesn't feel safe at least it feels overwhelming. Other times you're on top, riding him but only sometimes riding, because most times he grabs your hips and moves you while all you have to do is remain pliant. His hands fasten on your hips but still his thumb manages to rub you till you sputter and he just thrusts up and up and up.

---

Four towns and countless days later, you ride Sam while Dean fucks you in the ass. You hate to admit it but you're small and both Winchesters are decidedly not and even though there was lube and prepping, it's still more an exercise in making it not hurt rather than making it pleasurable. But Sam's more alive than he's ever been with you before and Dean _feels_ different, not quite relaxed but on his way there. Still his hand is a vice on your shoulder, somewhere between a demand and a plea.

Sam has one hand tangled in your hair, the other palming your breast and his eyes are shiny as they focus past your right ear. Dean comes and leans against your back, pressing you forward and eventually folding you uncomfortably into yourself. His nose bumps against Sam's, and they share each other's breath as Sam comes with a tremble before going slack. Their mouths barely graze but they still and you think they've forgotten you're here let alone that you haven't come.

When Dean eats you out in the shower later you wonder how much longer till they don't need you anymore.

He asks you to stay and your voices dries in your throat.


End file.
